Standstill
by croxley
Summary: She's not Bella. She's Isa.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

 **Standstill**

She's not Bella. She's Isa.

•••

 ** _now_**

Isa likes her coffee sweet, and she likes to watch the black coffee turn a delicious caramel color as she pours the cream in.

She has the same routine every morning.

She wakes up at five in the morning. She runs on the treadmill for exactly an hour, not a minute more or less. She showers. She makes herself coffee with a splash of cream and oatmeal with brown sugar, topped off with fresh fruit.

She arrives at work by seven thirty every morning. She works at the library, and she loves it. She loves the calm and quiet of the library. She loves the routine of it. The books are familiar to her, a kind of familiar she easily understands and remembers, and the books expect nothing of her. The people that come in, sometimes asking her for help, other times simply requiring her to accept their library card and let them take out books, are easy to please. They know nothing of her and want to know nothing of her.

She likes that the best. She's tired of disappointing people with expectations she doesn't know how to meet.

She works until ten fifteen in the morning, when she takes a fifteen minute break and has her second cup of coffee for the day. At twelve, she takes her lunch break, and while she eats a chicken sandwich in the library kitchen in the back, she calls her father to say hello. He no longer asks what she remembers, and she's grateful for that.

The afternoon is slow, but she doesn't mind. She immerses herself in cataloguing, and when the day is especially slow, she reads to pass the time. At three thirty, her work day is done. The library remains open, but there are others to look after it. Isa goes home. Her apartment is small and neat and she loves it.

She prepares herself a nice dinner, one with a fresh salad and a dish from a recipe book she occasionally reads at the library. She eats while she watches the news, and by seven thirty, she sits in her bed, reading for two or three hours. She really does love her books.

Before she goes to bed, she calls her father again.

Sometimes there is a sigh in his voice, but he is always kind, so she pretends not to notice the sigh because she does have some sympathy for him. The poor man seems unable to accept how she wishes to live her life, but he clearly loves her, and for that she remains on affectionate terms with him.

Her life is not an exciting one, but excitement is of little importance to Isa.

•••

A/N: Thanks for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

 **Standstill**

She's not Bella. She's Isa.

•••

 ** _then_**

Charlie banged on the door.

Generally, Charlie considered himself a laid-back type of man, but he knew he could get angry with the best of them. He was angry now. He was furious.

He was about to rap his knuckles on the small wooden door again when it swung open, and he almost banged his knuckles against the kid's head. "Chief Swan?" the boy asked, his annoyance melting into confusion. "What are you doing here? Has something happened?" The confusion gave way to concern, and the sincerity of it dulled Charlie's fury ever so slightly.

"We need to talk," Charlie told him, leaving no room for argument. "You know about what." And before he could be stopped, Charlie pushed his way into the house.

"Sir, I think I should explain—"

"No. You're not going to talk. I'm going to talk." He turned on the kid, and his fury reared to new heights of its own accord. "I know we haven't gotten along this past year, but this — this is unacceptable. If you think that just because I didn't want you marrying my daughter, that that gives you an excuse to abandon her—"

"I'm not abandoning her!" he protested, his green eyes bulging.

"No?" Charlie asked. "You haven't been by the hospital in over a week. And when I talked to the nurse today, she happened to mention something to me. Apparently you told my daughter you were in her room with flowers because you were delivering them."

The kid had the audacity to wince. "I was a little overwhelmed."

"You were overwhelmed?" Charlie roared. "My daughter nearly died, and she's had to start from scratch and her entire life is in shambles, but yes, yes, let's make this about you!"

"I'm not making this about me," he said defensively, looking like a kicked puppy.

It made Charlie really want to kick him. He tried to calm himself down. "She needs help right now," he said, his teeth gritted. "She needs support. She needs—"

"She doesn't need me," he said.

Charlie was ready to fly off the handle, but the kid went on hastily. "She doesn't even remember me! She doesn't remember any of us! She forgets everything we tell her by the next day, if not in a few hours. And — and when she asked me again who I was and what I was doing in there, I knew that if I told her the truth, she would get upset and say that she couldn't possibly be engaged to me. I didn't want that to happen so I just blurted out that I was delivering flowers. It was stupid, but I… How am I supposed to be there for her? All I do is freak her out. She doesn't even want to know who I really am."

He looked desperate.

Charlie had no sympathy. Zilch. Zero. His generous heart was untouched. Charlie took a step towards him, his face set. "All you're supposed to do is love her and be a part of her support system. That's the only thing you're supposed to do."

"I do love her!"

"No," Charlie said. "No. You don't. And you don't deserve her. You've never deserved her."

"Okay, okay. Look, I'll come by the hospital tomorrow and—"

"No. I didn't come here to plead for you to come the hospital. I came here to tell you it's done. You and my daughter are done. I'm going to help her. The people who actually care about her, who actually love her, are going to help her. And when she's better, you're not going to be a part of her life."

"Chief Swan," he protested softly.

But Charlie was already on his was to the door. His hand on the knob, he glanced back at the tall, thin, despicable little brat. Maybe in a few days, maybe when he was calmer or when Bella had showed some signs of improvement, maybe then he would have some sympathy for the pathetic boy, maybe then he wouldn't want to club him to death and leave the body in a gutter, but not now.

He almost forgot. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small diamond ring. He held it up. He walked a few feet to the nearby kitchen island and slammed it down on the marble counter. "You," he said, pointing a finger at the kid, "Benjamin Marshall, are never to come anywhere near my daughter again."

And he slammed the door shut behind him.

•••

A/N: Thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

 **Standstill**

She's not Bella. She's Isa.

•••

 ** _now_**

Isa doesn't like Victoria.

She has to work with the redhead three days a week, and they are her least favorite days. Victoria spends all her time complaining about how boring it is to work in a library, and how she wants to do something that really makes a difference. She wants to do disaster relief or perform life-threatening surgeries or fight bad guys. It's absolutely ridiculous. If Victoria wants such an adventure and truly thinks that being a librarian is such a waste of time, why is she still working at the library?

"I'm just saving up some money," Victoria always answers. "But as soon as I get enough, I'm going to get out of here, and I'm going to do something awe-inspiring."

Victoria has just given a spiel about how maybe she could go to work for the CIA someday. How she'll be a spy who steals top secret information, evading enemies, and kicking ass without breaking a nail. All that talk has put Isa into a thoroughly bad mood. She is checking books back into the system, pounding the keyboard a little too hard, when someone approaches the counter. "Just a moment," she says. She slams the enter button.

"That's right," he says, "show that keyboard who's boss."

Her head snaps towards the man. He looks vaguely familiar, and her stomach drops. Oh, God. Usually when someone looks vaguely familiar, it means that she's about to face an immensely awkward conversation with someone who knows Bella, who remembers her, who wants to talk and be her friend and reconnect, but who is a complete stranger to Isa.

"Um, can I — can I check these out?" he asks, looking a little taken aback, and he holds up two books, one is a copy of _Crime and Punishment_. Isa likes the great Russian works.

"Oh, yes, of course," she says, taking them from him and giving a small, slightly mortified smile. Apparently he doesn't know her. She relaxes slightly at that notion. She could have sworn she'd seen him in the hospital, that her recollection of his frame and face came from there, but that was a mess of muddy memories to her now.

"Have you ever read it before?" she asks.

" _Crime and Punishment_ or _The Very Hungry Caterpillar_?" There's a grin in his voice. His second book is indeed about a caterpillar. "It's for my kid," he adds.

"I meant _Crime and Punishment_ ," she says.

"In high school," he says. "I'm hoping it'll make more sense the second time around, or, you know, when I actually care." He gives a kind of wry smile, and she notes that he's sort of attractive. Not the typical kind, but there's just something about him. She glances at his finger. He has a kid but isn't wearing a wedding ring.

"I hope it does," she replies. "It really is good. I think you'll enjoy it this time."

"I hope so," he says.

"Do you have a library card?" she asks. She already suspects his answer, because if he did, she would surely have seen him before. She's been working here for weeks now.

"Oh, um, no. I'm actually not really a big library person. But you can get me one, right?"

"Of course," she assures him. "Just fill out this form, here." She hands him the sheet. "And I'll assign a number to you and give you a card, and…" It only takes a few minutes. Soon he has his brand new library card and two books in hand.

"Thanks for everything…?"

"Isa," she supplies.

"Thanks for everything, Isa," he says, smiling. "I'll let you know how I like it." He nods at _Crime and Punishment_.

"Please do," she tells him. "It was nice to meet you—" She glances at the form he just filled out. "—Edward," she says. "Have a good day."

"You know," he replies, "I think I just might." There's a bright look in his eyes, and she thinks again that it really was nice to meet him.

And Isa really does hope Edward comes back again.

•••

A/N: Thanks for reading!


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

 **Standstill**

She's not Bella. She's Isa.

•••

 ** _then_**

Charlie sat outside the hospital on one of the benches, his head tilted back to touch the brick wall. He spent most of his time in the hospital these days, he had for weeks. It had become routine, but it hadn't come anywhere close to easy.

The coffee in his hand was from the hospital, and he didn't think it all that horrible. He should know, too. He drank it three times a day.

He liked sitting outside the hospital. He could be in the sun, away from the sterile, white walls and floor and rooms, from the doctors and nurses who all meant well but who could only do so much, away from what he was slowly losing the strength to handle. No one would bother him. Sitting outside the hospital, those going in and out understand, even if they didn't know, and they left him be.

Charlie had never liked being left be so much as he did now.

When someone approached him and slowly sank down onto the bench beside him, he knew who it was. There was only one other person who came to the hospital every day, one other person who would know exactly where Charlie was and would have no hesitation in joining him. "Morning, Edward," Charlie greeted.

"Morning," Edward replied quietly.

"How are you?"

"Been better."

"And Sienna?"

"Been a lot better. She doesn't understand any of this."

Charlie nodded. How could she? He barely understands it. "It'll get better," he said. It was something of his tag line these days, and it came out automatically. "Dr. Shah said she remembered a few things from yesterday. That's good. She's remembering." He tried to cling to that idea, to that hope.

"No," Edward said, "she's not."

Charlie looked over at him, but Edward didn't meet his gaze. The boy leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, and stared out into the parking lot. Charlie knew he wasn't seeing asphalt or cars.

"She's starting to remember what you've told her. She's starting to remember that her name is Isabella Swan and she's your daughter, but she's not remembering being Bella Swan or being your daughter. She's not remembering what happened before. She's not remembering who she is. Only who she's supposed to be." His voice sounded kind of hollow.

"That's progress," Charlie said. It was, wasn't it? The doctors said as much. "And, honestly? If she never remembers who she was, that's okay. I'll help her. And as long as she has the ability to make new memories, it'll be okay."

"That's just it," Edward said. "We — Alice, Jake, and I…we've been talking, Charlie. Bella has trouble with all of us. She can't handle the pressure of us visiting every day and expecting her to know who we are."

Charlie said nothing.

"Jake is going to keep coming," Edward said. "He's gonna be the best friend she needs. He'll come and you'll come and that's what she needs. She won't be abandoned."

"But?" Charlie asked.

"But Alice and I are going to stop coming. Before you get upset, we're not giving up on her. But the chances of her really remembering who she was…they're slim. And right now trying to force it on her is only hurting. So when she gets out of here, when she's able to live again, Alice and I will reintroduce ourselves. Start fresh with her. Maybe that's messed up, maybe that's wrong. But I don't what else to do, and I have to do something because Sienna can't live like this, and maybe…I just think it would be better this way."

He finally looked at Charlie, and the older man could see the strain in Edward's eyes. "You don't come here for Sienna," Charlie said softly. He knew that. For a while he and Edward had pretended that was why Edward came everyday, but they both knew better.

"No," Edward said. "I come here for me. But now I have to do what's best for Sienna, and for Bella, and…maybe it'll be what's best for me, too." His face was set. There would be no changing his mind.

Charlie reached out and rested his hand on Edward's shoulder. "Okay," he said. "Okay."

Edward nodded.

Charlie took another sip of his coffee. It had gone cold. He sighed. He drank the rest of it anyway. There were, after all, worse things in this world than cold coffee.

•••

A/N: Thanks for reading!


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: No copyright infringement is intended.

All will be revealed in due time.

* * *

 **Standstill**

She's not Bella. She's Isa.

•••

 ** _now_**

Edward returns to the library three days later. Isa is impressed. "You read it in three days?" she asks.

"I'm a writer," he tells her, "if I want to take three days off of work to read dark Russian thriller novels, nobody complains." He gives her that bright, sly smile, and she finds her insides warm a little.

"A writer?" She's doubly impressed. That's such a romantic career.

"Don't get excited," he says. "I didn't say that I was a good writer."

"Well, did you like it?" she asks as she checks his books back into the system. " _Crime and Punishment_ , I mean."

"I did, actually. I like that the guilt was enough to change him. I don't know if that's always how it works, though." He pauses. "I'm generally of the black or white school of thought."

"Nothing's ever black or white," she says. "I think everyone has a little good and a little evil inside."

"Hmm," he says. "Interesting." She feels as if she's missing something, but he only goes on to ask for a recommendation of another great Russian work, and she gives him _Fathers and Sons_. He checks it out on his library card, and leaves. She kind of wishes he had dawdled a little.

That night on the phone with her father, Isa thinks about telling him of Edward. She decides not to. The only thing he's really interested in hearing is that Isa has remembered something, and she never does. She'll keep her affection for a man she barely knows to herself, at least for now.

Edward comes again a few days later. He didn't like _Fathers and Sons_. They talk about it for a little while. He asks her how long she's worked at the library and what her days are like there. "What's it like to be a librarian?" he asks. "Give me all the dirty details." She likes it when there's a teasing lilt to his voice. He's the first person in her memory who treats her normally, who treats her as if she isn't made of glass.

She gives him another recommendation, he leaves, and she eagerly waits for him to come back.

When he does, he surprises her. "Have you heard of that new Italian place on Main?" he asks her. She shakes her head. "Great. I'll be the first to take you there. Come on." She tries to protest, but he insists. "You brown bag it every day," he says. "You told me so. Come on. Let me take you to lunch. I promise I don't chew with my mouth open."

So she lets him take her to lunch.

He won't tell her the books he's written, because he knows she'll tease him. "I won't!" she swears. But he doesn't budge, and he says she won't be able to find them because he writes under a pseudonym. They talk about other books some more, and he asks her about television and movies. She doesn't really watch either, she tells him, and he promises to take her to the movies some time.

He doesn't ask about her past at all, and she's unimaginably glad for that. What would she tell him? That she doesn't have a past? Her life consists of the last few months.

After their tasty meal, he drops her back off at the library. She's twenty minutes late, but she just can't be bothered to care.

Edward returns two days later. He has tickets to a movie that night. His grin is contagious.

She's never been to a movie theatre before. At least, not that she can remember.

She doesn't know what to wear out, but she convinces herself it is not a date — she barely knows him. They're only friends. Truth be told, she probably can't handle anything more than that. In fact, she knows that she can't. She finds a nice blouse to wear and she tries to make her hair look pretty.

The movie is so bad it's good. They talk about it over coffee afterwards. They also talk about politics and the news for a little bit, and he makes her swear to watch some police drama on television, and he tells jokes about his editor, and he tells her he sometimes thinks about writing a screenplay. It's fun and easy and nice.

Isa really does like him, and she thinks he might be her best friend. She can't tell him that, of course, because that would mean explaining so much — like why she doesn't really have any other friends, like why the man named Jake isn't her best friend, but Bella's best friend.

Isa is not Bella. She's not.

Edward stops coming to the library when he needs to check out a book. Instead, he comes every day, and sometimes he takes her out to lunch, and sometimes they just chat, and Isa likes this new facet of her routine.

When he tells her he's celebrating Fourth of July at a friend's house, he invites her to come with him. "She won't mind," he promises. Isa isn't sure about going to a stranger's house and having to deal with countless people, but he tells her there will only be three people there, he and she included. "And you'll like Alice," he assures her. "I promise."

She agrees.

She makes a vegan dish and brings a bottle of wine to give to Alice as a thank you for inviting her. Alice is nice enough, and she looks more put together than Isa's ever felt. "I'm so glad Edward brought you," Alice says. "Two for a party is even too pathetic for me."

When Isa hands her the vegan casserole, Alice is more than a little surprised. "I would never have thought you would…you just don't look like someone who goes for vegan dishes. But thank you so much!" She turns away.

Isa looks at Edward, who only shrugs.

The night passes quickly, and Isa loves every minute of it. It isn't at all uncomfortable, and she decides she likes having friends. They eat dinner, they watch somewhat anti-climactic fireworks in the distance from Alice's balcony, and lastly they watch a movie on TV. It's fun. She likes Alice and she likes Edward and there's not much more to it.

•••

A/N: Thanks for reading!


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: No copyright infringement is intended.

Sienna will soon make an appearance.

* * *

 **Standstill**

She's not Bella. She's Isa.

•••

 ** _then_**

"And," Charlie said, grinning, "We can watch _Singin' in the Rain_ followed by _Grease_." She was finally coming home. The hospital had declared her well, had said that although her memories might not have returned, she was more than able to make new memories, and she was otherwise functioning as if nothing had ever happened.

"I've never seen them before," Bella told him. She sat on the edge of the bed, wearing the jeans and sweater Charlie had brought for her, looking as out of place as she always did these days. It was the way she held herself, he suspected. Her shoulders were hunched in, her balance seemed precarious, she was continually tucking her hair — a small portion of her head had been shaved during surgery — behind her ear and nervously fidgeting her foot.

"Oh, well, yes, but trust me — you're gonna love them, honey. It's two of your all-time favorite movies."

"You don't know that," she snapped. Her face was pinched, and when she looked at him, Edward's words from several weeks ago floated to Charlie's mind.

She knew that she was supposed to be Bella Swan, that she was supposed to be his daughter, but she didn't remember it. All he was to her was the man who came every day and told her that he was her father.

Charlie's grin faded.

She looked away. She took her emotionless, careless eyes and glanced at the far wall. Her foot tapped the ground repeatedly. Charlie didn't know what to do. He never knew what to do or say anymore. Nurse Hammond chose that moment to walk into the small room, her attention on the clipboard in her hands. "Everybody ready?" she asked. She looked up and smiled.

"Yes," Bella said, standing up and crossing her arms tightly over her chest.

"We're ready," Charlie told Nurse Hammond. "Packed and all. I've signed pretty much every form in the history of the world."

Nurse Hammond chuckled kindly. "I've just got one more for you, Mr. Swan." She held the clipboard out to him. "And then it's home sweet home. Are you excited, Bella?"

"It's Isa," Bella corrected. "I go by Isa. I don't like the name Bella."

"Well, Isa is a very pretty name," Nurse Hammond said, taking the clipboard from Charlie. "Now, I'm not going to give you a sermon on taking care of yourself, Isa, mainly because I know Dr. Shah already did, but remember — don't try to put too much strain on yourself right away. Recovery is a process that lasts long after you leave the hospital."

Bella nodded curtly and Nurse Hammond left with a final goodbye. Charlie looked at Bella. She was staring at her feet. Biting back a sigh, he started to leave, knowing she would follow. She was good at that. She knew how to listen to what he, the doctors, or the nurses told her. She knew how to repeat words and memorize facts and follow someone else's lead.

She knew how to follow someone else's lead.

It was so unlike her, so unlike Bella. But that was why she insisted on being called Isa, wasn't it? Because she wasn't Bella. She had said it more than once. She wasn't Bella. She was someone else, and he had to realize that.

Much as he loved her, he doubted he ever would.

•••

A/N: Thanks for reading!


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

 **Standstill**

She's not Bella. She's Isa.

•••

 ** _now_**

Her father asks her to have dinner at his house often, but Isa usually says no. She's more for monthly dinners while he's more for, say, nightly dinners. It's always a strained, awkward affair, especially when he invites friends, like Billy or Harry. She doesn't know these people. She wishes she could have the chance to, but they're too busy telling her all about Bella.

It kind of makes her hate them.

But she's in such a good mood lately, so she tells her father on the phone that she would love to come over for dinner on Saturday. It's been over a month since she met Edward, and she's long since realized that she might have feelings for him. She doesn't know how to say it, of course, and what would come of it?

She really doesn't know that much about him, about his past. All she knows is that his parents moved to Alaska after their retirement, he doesn't have any siblings, and he's a single father. She's never met his kid, although he's shown her the adorable little girl's picture. And he certainly knows nothing of her past. What can she possibly tell him about it?

Those feelings won't simply go away, however, and maybe she doesn't want them to. She has to have a life, doesn't she?

When she arrives at her father's house, she can't say she's thrilled to see that Jake is there. She coaches herself to be on her best behavior as she gives her father a kiss on his cheek. "How are you, honey?" he asks. He never calls her Isa. He doesn't call her Bella, either, so that's something, but she knows there's a reason he always uses endearments.

"I'm really well, thanks," she says. The small house is familiar to her. She lived there for a bit before she convinced her father it would be easier on both of them if she had her own place.

"Hey Izzy B," Jake greets.

"Hi Jake," she says, smiling politely. He, like her father, has found a convenient way around calling her Isa or Bella. "How's Vanessa?" Vanessa is his wife. Isa has only met her a few times. Apparently, Bella was in the wedding which means absolutely nothing to Isa.

"Pretty good, pretty good," Jake says, nodding his head. "How's the library?"

"The same as usual," she replies, handing her coat and purse to her father, "which is just the way I like it."

They make small talk for a while, and it isn't too terrible. She almost tells them about Edward and Alice, but she stops herself. For some reason, she wants to keep her new friends to herself. After all, if she starts talking about friends, she'll get to hear a speech about the friends that Bella had.

It happens later that night. Charlie wants to eat ice cream sundaes for dessert, and Isa fetches the ingredients from the cabinets. "What do you want on yours, Jake?" she asks.

"Chocolate fudge," he replies, "and some cherries. The ice cream kind, not the real kind. And sprinkles!" He's as excited as a little kid. Isa smiles as she pulls everything off the shelves.

"Oh, wait," Charlie says, "I was at the grocery store and I got — it's good," he brags, grinning, "but I left it in the car. I'll be back, don't move!" He runs outside.

Isa shakes her head at him. As hard as it is to be around a man who desperately wants her to be somebody she isn't, she finds him kind of endearing despite it all. "Don't skimp on that chocolate fudge, now," Jake tells her, slipping onto one of the stools at the kitchen island.

Isa reaches back to the cabinet for bowls, and when she turns around, she sees it all. It's just suddenly there, as if it had never not been there. _"My mom thinks I'm staying at Wesley's house."_

"Who's Wesley?" Isa asks.

Jake frowns. "What? Wesley?"

 _"Wesley is my imaginary, straight-A, Boy Scout friend."_

 _"He sounds boring for an imaginary friend."_

 _"Mom seems to like him."_

Isa stares at Jake, who looks mildly concerned now. Charlie comes back into the house. "Brownie bites on ice cream!" he says gleefully, holding up a circular container

Isa barely notices him. She's actually remembered something. She doesn't feel any different. She doesn't feel like she really knows Jake. She doesn't feel like Bella.

But she — Bella — is still in there somewhere, isn't she?

"Izzy B, you okay?" Jake asks.

"I'm fine," she says, turning away. "I just…nothing." She forces a shaky smile.

But neither man lets it go. "Did you remember something?" Jake presses. There's too much hope in his voice. "Somebody named Wesley?"

And Isa can't help herself. "Your imaginary friend," she says. "Straight-A, Boy Scout…your mom liked him because…because he was a boy. She didn't like that your best friend was a girl." It's all there. That one moment, the sights, the sounds, the feelings, the reasons. But it's only one minute in time.

"Yeah," Jake says, "yeah, I remember that! And my mom totally came around, but…yeah!"

"Oh, sweetheart, this is great," Charlie says, pulling Isa into a hug. "We definitely deserve dessert now, don't we?" There are actual tears in his eyes.

And this is too much for Isa. How much will their expectations soar after this? She can't handle that. She's only just now become comfortable in her own skin. "It's nothing, really," she insists. "It doesn't even mean anything."

"But it's something!" Jake declares.

"You can stop making mine, Dad. I have to go. I have a dentist appointment tomorrow, I have to be up early, and… I'm sorry." She doesn't really have an appointment, but it's the best excuse she can make up at that moment. "This was really nice. I'll see you later."

She's already grabbing her coat from the coat hanger. "Wait, honey," Charlie says, his eyes wide and wounded. Isa stubbornly pushes down her guilt. They do this to themselves, really.

"You can stay for another half hour, can't you?" Jake asks.

"I really can't, I'm sorry," she insists. She grabs her purse.

"Bella, if this is about—"

"Isa. It's Isa," she cuts in. "I'm not Bella."

She shuts the door firmly behind her, and they don't try to stop her.

•••

A/N: Thanks for reading!


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

 **Standstill**

She's not Bella. She's Isa.

•••

 ** _then_**

Isa walked Charlie's dog around the park. He had told her the story of when he surprised a thirteen year old Bella with a retired K-9 for her birthday. This was a different dog. Apparently, her beloved Dixie died years ago, but she loved this sweet girl just as much.

Isa didn't listen too much. She didn't know this dog, and she didn't know Dixie, and hearing her father tell her over and over how much Bella had loved this dog and loved Dixie and loved walking her around the neighborhood was a waste of her time.

Still, it was nice to get out of the house. Nobody at the park tried to talk to her, and the breeze was pleasant, and Isa didn't mind being by herself. In fact, it was probably how she liked it best these days.

"Bella!"

Oh, please no, Isa thought. Maybe it was another Bella. Maybe if she simply didn't respond, nothing would come of it.

"Hey! Bella! Wait a minute!"

The man who fell suddenly in step with her was panting a little but he smiled brightly. "Didn't you hear me?" he asked. He had dirty blond hair and he looked about her age. She probably knew him from school, and he would have no idea what had happened to her, that she wasn't Bella, and she would have to try to explain it all.

"Sorry," she said. "I was in another world." She gave a tight smile.

"It's cool. So, how are you? I haven't seen you since…"

She shrugged.

"You're mad, aren't you? Yes. You're mad." He swooped suddenly in front of her, and she was forced to stop walking. The dog tugged on her leash, but Isa merely tugged back and avoided looking at the man. "It's not my fault," he said. "It was so hard to come in and see you like that, and then your dad said that I couldn't visit any more, and nobody even told me you were out."

"Out?" Isa echoed.

"Out of the hospital. That's so great, Bella. Are you staying with your dad?"

So he knew. But he didn't understand. "I go by Isa now," she replied.

"Isa? Um, okay, that's cool. Sounds sophisticated, I like it." He paused, as if wanting her to say more, but she did no such thing. "How long have you been back home?"

"A few days," she answered.

"Um, how's Sienna? She never liked me very much, but I really miss her." He laughed awkwardly. "I miss you, too." His voice went soft. "Look, I don't know what your dad told you, and believe me, I wish I could have done things differently, but I—"

"Who's Sienna?" Isa asks.

His eyebrows fly up. "You don't know?"

She hates it when people ask that question. She lost her memory. How is that a hard concept to grasp? "Honestly?" Isa says, losing her temper. "No, I don't. I don't know who she is and I don't know who you are. I don't know who anybody is. I had my head bashed in. If you went to the hospital, shouldn't you know that?" She glares at him.

He looks like somebody stole his lunch money. "I thought you were doing better..."

"I am," she snapped.

"But how can you not…" He cleared his throat. "You really don't…? I'm Ben. Benjamin Marshall, but I go by Ben. Less of a mouthful, you know. We went to college together. I was on the rowing team with Jake, he introduced us. You know who Jake is, right?"

Isa didn't care for this Ben guy. "I know him," she said. "Look, Ben, I actually can't really talk right now. I have to be back at the house. I'm sorry. I'll see you later." She turned away to walk back to her car, dragging the dog with her.

"Wait, Bella, wait!" he said. "Do you really not remember anything? We've known each other for years. We were engaged. We were supposed to get married." He spoke as if the words held some power.

She looked at him. She felt nothing in seeing his face — no memory, no vague recollection, no emotion, no attachment. He was a stranger to her. "I don't know you," she told him. There wasn't much more to say. She didn't care who he was to Bella. Bella didn't exist anymore.

"Okay, that's okay," he said hastily, once more blocking her path. "We can start over again. You're all I've ever wanted, Bella. We can start over again. Make new memories, you know?" He reached out to touch her arm.

She jerked away from him. "I don't think so. And I'd appreciate it if you didn't try to contact me again."

"But — I mean — I — why?"

"Because I'm not Bella."

When she returned to the house, she decided not to say anything to her father about Benjamin Marshall. She never heard from him or about him again. And that, at least, was one thing for which to be grateful.

•••

A/N: Thanks for reading!


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

 **Standstill**

She's not Bella. She's Isa.

•••

 ** _now_**

Isa sits on Alice's couch, her feet pulled under her, as she eats Indian takeout while Alice rants about her new boss. Alice manages to add a bit of dry humor to everything she says, to every story she tells, and Bella loves that about her. Alice is good people, and there's something comforting about about being around her.

"So," Alice says, tearing a piece of roti to scoop up her chana masala. "Are you excited for your date with Edward tonight?"

"It is not a date!" Isa protests, feeling her cheeks and neck flush.

"He's taking you out to dinner and a movie," Alice argues. "That sounds like a date to me."

"We're just spending the evening together as friends," Isa insists. "We've done that plenty of times before."

"And this really isn't any different?"

"It's not."

"Sure."

"It's not!"

Alice pauses, and she tilts her head slightly. "Do you want it to be?"

Isa is about to say that of course she doesn't, but she considers for a moment. "I don't know," she admits. "It's complicated. I really like him, I do. But there's a lot about my past that I haven't really explained to you or Edward. And I like my routine."

She really does. She likes waking up at the same time every morning. She likes lots of cream in her coffee. She likes a regimented schedule at the library. She likes falling asleep reading her books in bed. It's not much, but it's the best life Isa could carve out for herself. What would be the risks of seeking more? She's not much of a risk-taker.

"No routine can really last forever," Alice says softly.

Feeling a need to be honest, to say what she's really thinking, Isa tells Alice, a kind of confessional tone to her voice, "I am a little nervous about going out with him. I mean, going out to dinner and a movie, because we're not going out — we're not dating."

Alice tries to bite back a smile, but she isn't entirely successful. Isa decides to pretend that she is. "What are you wearing? Something simple? Something sexy?"

"Simple," Isa says. "Definitely simple. I don't even own anything sexy." She makes a face.

Alice chuckles. "You should at least wear something different. Something new and exciting. It doesn't have to be for him. Just something that makes you feel good, you know?"

"I don't really have time to go shopping," Isa tells her. She eyes Alice. "Could I borrow something from you?" Don't girls do that sort of thing? She wants to have a good girl friend, someone who belongs entirely to Isa, not Bella.

Alice is surprised. "I don't have anything too great," she says. "I'm not really Miss Fashionista. But if you want, sure. You can go try some things on now if you want. I'll check on the brownies." She smiles.

"Thanks so much," Isa says, putting down her plate and standing up.

"The skirts and dresses are in the closet," Alice says. "And never underestimate the power of accessories. They're in the dresser by the window." She grins and starts towards the kitchen.

Isa has only been in Alice's bedroom a handful of times. It is clean but a little untidy as the rest of the house, and it feels so very lived in. She goes for the closet first. Isa went shopping for clothes once, a month out of the hospital, and it was so nice to wear clothing that belonged to her, to Isa, and not to Bella.

But she doesn't think she'll mind wearing something that belongs to Alice.

She pulls a few dresses off their hangers and tries them on. "How are you doing in there?" Alice calls.

"Fine!" Isa yells back.

She likes the third dress. It's a little short, but she loves the color. She tries to imagine if she has any shoes that could go with it. "Can I borrow some shoes, too?" she shouts to Alice.

"Go wild!" Alice shouts back.

Isa smiles and looks around for shoes. There are some at the bottom of the closet, but they're mostly sandals and flats. The shelves at the top of the closet are overfilling with boxes, but she spies silver high heels. Those would be perfect. When she tries to tug them out, however, she ends up bringing three boxes with them. She catches two, but the third falls.

Pictures smear across the ground.

Isa hurriedly shoves the other two boxes back into the closet and then bends down to put the pictures back in the box and return it to its spot. Alice is doing a nice thing for her, and here Isa is making a mess of Alice's things.

Then Isa actually looks at a picture. And she sees herself.

No. She sees Bella. With long brown hair and sunglasses, Bella sticks her tongue out at the camera, an arm around a boy who is clearly Jake and another arm around a girl who is clearly Alice. Isa chokes on her breath.

She looks at another picture. Bella's not in it. But she is in a third picture and a fourth and a fifth. Isa doesn't know what to do. Alice does know Bella. When Edward brought Isa by the house, did Alice simply decide to pretend she didn't? Judging by these pictures, it looks as if Alice was as good a friend to Bella as Jake was.

"Found something you like?" Alice yells. "Come show it off! I want to see!"

Isa doesn't answer, because she's fighting a losing battle with tears.

It isn't just Alice. There's a picture of Bella grinning slyly at the camera, and standing right beside her, his arm circling her waist and a charming grin on his face, is Edward.

Oh God.

There's a taint suddenly to every single moment Isa shared with Alice and, worse still, with Edward.

"Isa," Alice says, pushing open the bedroom door. "Did you get lost or something?"

Isa glances up from where she kneels on the ground, surrounded by pictures. Her eyes land on Alice, who meets her gaze, a look of panic rising in her face. Isa stumbles to her feet. "Isa," Alice murmurs.

"No," Isa says. "Don't."

"Wait, you need to let me explain," Alice protests.

Isa pulls off the dress she's wearing and yanks her jeans on. "There's nothing to explain."

"There's a lot to explain," Alice says.

Isa has to get out of there. She can't cry in front of Alice, she can't, but she's pretty sure she's rapidly losing the willpower not to. She buttons and zips her jeans and then grabs her shirt. "I don't want to hear it," she tells Alice. "I just want to go home. I can't be here. I can't deal with this."

"We thought it would be easier," Alice says.

"You and Edward were both close to Bella, weren't you? And you pretended not to know me at all!"

"You said you weren't Bella!" Alice says. "You said you were Isa! And if you wanted to be a new person, then why couldn't we act like we had never met you, like you were a new person to us? You are! And that's how we were treating you! We were trying to do what you wanted."

"It's not that simple," Bella says. Her shirt and sweater are on. A moment later, her flats are, too.

"Nobody ever said it was simple. This hasn't been easy for either of us—"

"I didn't ask for you to do this, for you and Edward to lie to me." She pushes past Alice and out of the room. She's on her way out of that apartment, and she can't escape fast enough. She sees her purse on the table and she has it in her hands in an instant.

"Don't do this, Isa," Alice says. "Don't just run out. Listen to me."

"Isa or Bella?" Isa spits.

"I said Isa, didn't I?" Alice asks, and she's angry. "I know you're pissed. I know. And you have a right to be. We did lie, and it wasn't fair of us to do that to you. But we weren't without reason, and no matter how angry you get, you can't walk out on us. Because you don't know everything."

"I know enough, Alice," Bella says. "I have to go." She reaches for the door.

"No," Alice says. "You don't know anything, and there's a lot that we've been avoiding telling you, because we thought it would be easier, but clearly it's never going to be easy. You can't ignore your past. What if Bella was, I don't know, a recovering addict? That would affect you, too. You might not remember it, but you still have a past."

"I don't have a past!" Isa tells her. "Can't you see that? Can't you see that I just want to escape Bella? I'm not her! I don't have her memories! I don't have her personality! I don't have her life! And I'm sick of people wanting me to be her! I thought you and Edward were my friends. God, I thought you guys were my friends. I guess the joke's on me, huh?"

"No, Isa. We are your friends," Alice says softly.

Isa wipes furiously at her eyes. "I don't ever want to see you again — you or Edward."

"You're going to have to," Alice says, her face seeming to set, "because whether you like it or not, you and Bella have a lot in common, including the same past, and there are things Bella did, parts of her life, people she knew and who's lives she affected that you can't just run from."

"I can't handle this," Isa says."Don't you understand that?"

Alice stares at her with a pinched look in her eyes, as if she's about to rip off a band-aid. "Too bad," she says, "because you're going to have to. Edward isn't just an old friend of Bella's. Edward is your ex-husband, Isa. And, right now, because you can't handle it, he's raising your daughter alone."

•••

A/N: Thanks for reading!


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

 **Standstill**

She's not Bella. She's Isa.

•••

 ** _then_**

Charlie sat down heavily. He was so exhausted these days. Edward handed him a glass of whiskey.

"I really shouldn't," he said.

"I'll pay for a cab," Edward offered. "You need it, trust me." He sat down at the kitchen table beside Charlie, with his own drink in hand.

Charlie sighed. "Thanks," he said. "Bella's moving out."

"You're kidding," Edward said.

Charlie shook his head. "I wish I was. But it's what she wants. She's been talking about it since the day she was released from the hospital. Bella needs her space." He laughed bitterly. "I'm sorry. Isa. Isa needs her space."

"I'm sorry," Edward said.

"Me, too," Charlie said. "She's going to live in her old apartment building."

"Maybe it'll trigger some memories for her."

"Maybe," Charlie said. But he kind of doubted it, and looking at the kid that was once his son-in-law — and should have stayed his son-in-law, as far as Charlie was concerned — he knew that Edward kind of doubted it, too. "But maybe it'll just be a reason for her to pull further from me and from Jake and from who she once was."

"One day at a time," Edward said. "Isn't that our motto?"

Charlie smiled. "It's been mine for a long time, son." It's quiet. "Where's Sienna?"

"Put her to sleep an hour ago," Edward said. "But if you want to say hi, you can wake her up."

"No, no," Charlie said, shaking his head. "Let her sleep. I'll be able to come by a lot more once Bella's moved out." He paused. "How is she?"

"Not great," Edward admits. "She still doesn't get it. I told her that Mommy was sick, and she asked why she can't bring Mommy soup and juice and read to her and make her feel better like Mommy does for her when she's sick." There was bitterness thick in his words. "What am I supposed to say? There isn't a handbook for this. How am I supposed to explain it? Sorry, baby, but Mommy doesn't know who you are?"

"I don't know," Charlie said, sighing again. "I just don't know. We could try…we could try telling Bella about her."

"Wouldn't she freak out? And how would she treat Sienna? Would it do more harm than good?" It was obvious Edward had thought about it. So had Charlie. And neither had any answers. A part of Charlie thought it was the best thing to do. Bella needed to know she had a daughter, and Sienna deserved an explanation. It just wasn't that easy.

It went quiet again. They were one pathetic duo, the two of them, both grown men, sitting in a kitchen at nine at night, drinking whiskey and lamenting how hard their lives were. But what were they supposed to do?

"She works at the library, right?" Edward asked.

"Got a job there last month," Charlie confirmed. He looked at Edward to see the boy staring down at his empty glass.

"I think I'm going to go see her. Introduce myself, you know — do what we talked about. If she gets comfortable with me, comes to trust me, maybe we can explain the truth and…and Sienna will get her mom back."

Charlie nodded. "Sienna needs a Mom," he said.

"She needs Bella," Edward said.

 _We do, too_ , Charlie thought. But Edward already knew that.

•••

A/N: Thanks for reading!


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

 **Standstill**

She's not Bella. She's Isa.

•••

 _then_

Ben had planned a huge night. It was their six month anniversary, and he had made reservations at the new bistro downtown, after which he planned on taking to her to a poetry reading at a quirky tea shop that a friend from work had recommended to him. It seemed right up her alley.

When he arrived at her place, however, she was in ripped jeans and a t-shirt, down on her knees scrubbing the cabinet under the sink. The kitchen was a mess around her, but she had to get rid of the mold. "It's waiting to seep out of the cabinet and into the kitchen and up the stairs and into my bed," she told him, as if it were the most dire situation.

He laughed at the absurdity of the situation. "Well, are you almost done killing the evilness? Because we have dinner reservations for 7:30."

She looked surprised. "You wanted to go out tonight?"

"You didn't?"

"You didn't mention it," she said. "I'm sorry, Ben. We can't. I didn't get a babysitter."

"Sienna's here?" he asked, feeling as if things were going in a very wrong direction.

"Of course. You knew that I had her this week." She stood and went to the door of the kitchen. "Sienna!" she shouted. "Come downstairs and say hi to Ben!" She turned back to him. "I thought we could all just watch a movie and have dinner here. I made spaghetti."

"But, I mean — don't get me wrong, that sounds great, but I thought we would do something special, you know? For our anniversary?"

"Our anniversary?" She blinked blankly at him. "What anniversary, Ben?"

"It's been exactly six months since we started dating," he said.

"Anniversaries are for years." She looked at him as if she couldn't possibly fathom what he was thinking. This was how it had fallen apart the first time they dated, all those years ago in college. Everything was right and easy and Bella was as wonderful as he'd imagined, and then all of sudden she didn't understand anything he did and she would stare at him as if he had grown a second head, and one day she just wanted to be friends.

"Right, but I still wanted to celebrate with you." he said sheepishly.

Her face softened slightly. "Ben — hey, sweetie!"

He spun around to see the four year old standing in the doorway, her reddish-brown hair in a lop-sided ponytail. She wore tiny white overalls and a tie dye shirt. Around her neck was a plastic stethoscope. "Mr. Snoopy had a broken knee, Mommy. I was fixing it for him."

"He's lucky to have such a good doctor," Bella said.

Sienna nodded sagely. She ran over to her mom. "Sit down and I'll fix you, too."

"Am I sick?"

"Yes. Sit. Mommy, sit."

Bella obediently sat down. Sienna put on her stethoscope and pressed it to Bella's stomach. "Open your mouth and say ah," she instructed. Bella did as she was told.

"What's wrong with me, doctor?"

"You have a broken elbow."

"A broken elbow? Oh, that's awful! Can you make me better?"

"Just wait one minute," Sienna instructed. She ran out of the room, and Bella barely had time to smile at Ben, the adoration for her daughter still shining in her eyes, before the little girl tottered back into the room. She pulled out a Peppa Pig band-aid and carefully put it on her mother's elbow. "All better!" she declared.

"Thank you so much," Bella said, reaching forward and gathering Sienna up in a hug. "What would I do without you?"

Sienna beamed.

"How about you go into the living room with Ben and see what's wrong with him while Mommy cleans up the kitchen? Then we can all have dinner."

"Okay," murmured Sienna. She ran out of the room, not even glancing at Ben. He looked at Bella, but she was already bending down to pick up the items scattered across the kitchen floor. Holding back a sigh, he followed Sienna.

She was waiting in the living room, her arms crossed over her chest and a frown on her tiny face. He was about to ask her if he should sit or stand while she checked him, but she spoke first. "Nobody likes you, you know."

He stared. "What?"

"My mommy doesn't like you. You should go away. Nobody wants you here."

Frustration welled up in Ben. It wasn't news that Sienna didn't like him, but she rarely showed anything other than an angelic face around her mother, and the fact that the little girl mostly ignored Ben didn't seem to bother Bella. How was he supposed to deal with a four year old that hated him? He didn't even know four year olds could hate someone that much. "I think you'd want me here if you got to know me," he said. "I think we can be friends."

"No, no, no! My mommy's s'posed to be with my daddy. I'm going to get rid of you and then my mommy and daddy will live together again and everything'll be the way it's s'posed to be." She spoke with such conviction that he was momentarily left to stare at her in disbelief.

"Sienna, that is not going to happen," he said slowly.

And then she let out a piercing wail, running from the living room.

He didn't know what to do. A moment later, Bella appeared in the room, concern written all over her face. "Why did Sienna just run up the stairs crying?" she asked, an accusatory gleam in her eyes.

"I don't know," he said, shrugging helplessly. "We were talking and all of the sudden she just burst into tears and ran away. I think she just doesn't like me."

Bella sighed. "Maybe you should leave."

"What?" He couldn't believe it.

"You being here is obviously too much for her."

"So I'm only allowed to come to your place every other week when she's staying with Edward?"

"For now, at least," Bella said. "I think that would be best."

"Bella—"

"I'm sorry, Ben. You should go."

"Bella, she's manipulating you. She knows if she cries, you'll kick me out, and that's exactly what she wants. I know she loves her dad, but she has to understand that you guys aren't getting back together and—"

"She's four, Ben. It's not that simple. Please go."

"She's a brat, Bella!" It just came out. It really did. And he knew how much shit he was in instantly.

Her mouth thinned to a pink line, her entire face tightened, and her eyes gleamed. "Yes, Ben. Please tell me more about my daughter and how I should be raising her, because you're such an expert on parenthood and you know all about divorce and all about four year olds and clearly I've messed up."

"No, Bella, I—"

"We're done," she interrupted. "You need to leave. Now."

There was no point in arguing with Bella Swan.

When his hand was on the knob of the front door, he glanced up at the stairs. Bella was kneeling on the stair below Sienna, telling her that they were going to have a fun girl's night. It was as if Ben wasn't even there. And then Sienna leaned forward and hugged her mom, and she looked down at Ben over her mother's shoulder.

She smiled. It was slow and sly — almost disconcerting for a kid — but a perfectly, smug checkmate smile. Her little face, the shape of her expression, the look in her eyes, was all Edward Cullen.

And as he left, Ben realized he was kind of terrified of a four year old.

•••

A/N: Thanks for reading!


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